


Erased But Not Forgotten

by abelrunner



Category: Middle-earth: Shadow of Mordor (Video Game)
Genre: Act 1 Shadow of War Spoilers, And make the character's lives a little bit worse, Celebrimbor's Life is a Tragedy, Gen, The Silmarillion References, When you try to make sense of differences between book canon and game canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-30
Updated: 2017-11-30
Packaged: 2019-02-08 16:21:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12868371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/abelrunner/pseuds/abelrunner
Summary: From that time war never ceased between Sauron and the Elves; and Eregion was laid waste, and Celebrimbor slain, and the doors of Moria were shut.Deep in the library of Minas Ithil, Talion attempts to reconcile the differences between the stories he's heard and the memories he's regained with Celebrimbor.





	Erased But Not Forgotten

The library of Minas Ithil was extensive. Housed deep in the central citadel, it remained relatively untouched by the siege that boomed outside, save for a few tomes shaken loose from their homes and sent to the floor by the cacophonies.

Talion hadn’t exactly been well-read prior to his exile. Most of the titles here were lost on him, though they certainly sounded impressive. He was looking for one in particular however, one that more or less everyone knew about. Finally, he found it, tucked away in a corner. Outwardly a thick if otherwise unimpressive tome, titled simply:

_ The Silmarillion, A History of Middle Earth. _

He could sense Celebrimbor’s reluctant interest as he flipped through it. The chapter headers were enough to make Talion wish he’d more time to read them: The Beginning of Days, The Coming of the Elves, Feanor and the Unchaining of Melkor, Beleriend and All Its Realms, of Beren and Luthien… Finally, at the very back, a rather scant chapter compared to the rest: 

_ OF THE RINGS OF POWER AND THE THIRD AGE: Where These Tales Come to Their End _

_ I could tell you these things,  _ Celebrimbor said irritably.  _ I  _ **_have_ ** _ told you these things. No need to waste your time here. _

“I’m checking something,” Talion replied. He’d realized it as soon as he’d had time to breathe, and ever since it’d been bothering him. He’d heard of Celebrimbor before the wraith had taken up residence alongside his own soul, but so much of his story had seemed... new. The idea that he’d simply never heard of Celebrimbor’s attempt to take Mordor, that Celebrimbor had been a Ring Bearer, struck him as odd. He wasn’t entirely sure if it was his own failing or something else.

At the beginning of the chapter was a brief mention of Eregion, and Celebrimbor was noted as their greatest smith, though not it’s lord, strangely enough. A brief mention of Moria and Eregion’s friendship ended the scant description of what Talion, through Celebrimbor, remembered as a vibrant and beautiful place, full of song and the ringing of smithies, of  _ creation. _ That it was so readily forgotten, at least in this book, made something in Talion’s chest ache, and he had the feeling that it wasn’t just his pain. 

In the briefest and still somehow chastising of terms, the writer went on to describe how Eregion welcomed Sauron, under the guise of Annatar, into their halls, “for ever they desired to increase the subtlety and skill of their works, and were not at ease in their hearts.”

Talion felt Celebrimbor’s unease as Talion continued to scan through. The book proceeded to the creation of the rings, yet…

“It says the smiths of Eregion created the rings,” Talion said quietly. “Not just you.” In fact, it didn’t even really mention Celebrimbor in connection to the creation of the rings given to the Dwarves and Men. Celebrimbor’s confusion was almost palpable.

_ Lies, _ he hissed.  _ You saw the memories. _ Talion had, had experienced them as if they were his own. He’d felt the heat of the molten gold, seen the metal cool and the gems set. Heard Annatar ( _ Sauron _ ) whisper his praise of the work as he held the rings between fine white fingers.

Yet here, it was passed over quietly. According to the Silmarillion, Celebrimbor had only created the three elven rings, Nenya, Narya and Vilya. Talion could feel the rage in the back of his head, the sheer  _ indignation. _

And then…

“ _ From that time war never ceased between Sauron and the Elves; and Eregion was laid waste, and Celebrimbor slain, and the doors of Moria were shut. _ ”

Talion blinked, frowned. That was all? That couldn’t be all. He scanned the pages over and over, one after another until he reached the end, then back again to the beginning of the chapter. Celebrimbor’s silence pressed against the back of his neck like a knife edge.

He went to the back of the book. There, every bloodline worth tracing was stored, including the line of Feanor. Finwe and Miriel were the parents of Feanor, who wed Nerdanel. They had seven sons: Maedhros, Maglor, Celegorm, Caranthir, Curufin, and the twins Amrod and Amras. There was no mention of any wives alongside these elves, but Celebrimbor was listed as Curufin’s son, the end of Feanor’s line.

No note of any wife, any child. The golden haired elven woman and the slight, dark haired child that had stood beside Celebrimbor’s throne were not listed here. Certain he’d missed something, Talion flipped back and read again. No mention of them previously either, nor of any escape from Mordor, no assault with an army of orcs at his back. It seemed a strange thing to miss, but still Talion checked.

“ _ From that time war never ceased between Sauron and the Elves; and Eregion was laid waste, and Celebrimbor slain, and the doors of Moria were shut. _ ”

And that was the end of Celebrimbor’s story, at least as far as the histories were concerned.

The silence dragged on, broken only occasionally by the soft rumbles of war outside the citadel walls. When Talion tried to place the book back on the shelf, Celebrimbor stopped him. His muscles locked, his fingers gripped the book with painful strength. For a moment, Talion feared the wraith would use him to rip it in half.

Instead, with a burst of rage, Talion’s arm whipped back and flung the book across the library, where it landed with a heavy thud on the floor. 

_ There is more!  _ Celebrimbor snarled, releasing Talion’s body take several threatening steps toward the book, as if wanting to crush it under his heel, cast it into the fire.  _ That’s not-! They couldn’t-! _

“What’s in that book is what I’d learned myself,” Talion said carefully. “What most have learned, at least.”

_ I was the Bright Lord!  _ Celebrimbor roared with a voice only Talion could hear.  _ I claimed the Ring, I brought Mordor and the Dark Lord to it’s knees! I created the Rings of Power! I alone! _

“That’s what you want to be remembered for?” Talion asked. Celebrimbor whirled on him, and Talion took a sharp step back. It was like being stared down by a Caragor.

_ It is not about what I  _ **_want!_ ** _ It is about what  _ **_is_ ** _! _ Celebrimbor reached out, making a gesture as if grabbing for someone’s throat to wring, to strangle.  _ The  _ **_lies_ ** _! They speak of my grandfather, my father, of all their crimes and misdeeds, but not of  _ **_me_ ** _? After all I did? All I accomplished? Eregion, a footnote?! My lands, my works, my leadership, less than nothing?! My family-?! _

At that, his voice cracked and he turned away. A rush of memory hit Talion like a punch to the head and heart. 

_ Gladhrien kneading dough, golden hair tied back and voice raised in song. She always got flour everywhere; on the floor, on her dress, on her nose, on her forehead. Her smile was always so wide and bright, her laughter always spreading like wildfire. She kissed him on the cheek and left flour there as well. _

_ Celebreth, her eyes as bright and blue as his own, peering from across the room as he worked at the forge. Always watching, always ready to help if he asked, and sometimes he did, if only because she looked so anxious to be a part of it.  _ **_Could I make beautiful things too, Father?_ ** _ Of course; it’s in your blood. _

_ Gladhrien with Celebreth tucked against her side, long fine fingers tracing stories from the spaces between the stars. She always knew every story, every song, every poem. And if she didn’t know one, she could make one as easily as he could make a sword. _

_ Her arms around him, squeezing hard enough to make him laugh, the silver circlet he’d twisted to look like flowers tucked into her hair.  _

_ The feel of her hair between his fingers as he braided it, her voice soft as she sang. _

**_On winds and waters may you cross…_ **

**_On mountains white and blue…_ **

**_But on your road, let’s not forget…_ **

**_The love I have for you…_ **

Talion found himself on his knees, a hand clasped across his mouth as tears that were not his blurred his vision, as sobs that weren’t his own clawed at the back of his throat. 

_ Forgotten.  _ Celebrimbor’s voice was raw and sharp like broken glass.  _ Like they never were. Is that my legacy? Tactful silence? Forgotten innocents? Is that the end I fought for?  _ Talion couldn’t respond.

The elf lord faded away, leaving Talion to collect himself. Slowly, the sobs abated, the tears ran their course, and he was able to breathe again. He got to his feet, scrubbing at his face with his sleeve. 

Outside, the battle continued. Men fought and died, and Minas Ithil slipped faster and faster through their fingers.

“It doesn’t have to be,” Talion said softly. “We keep fighting. And we remember them. They are not forgotten.”

Archarn seemed a thousand times heavier as he walked from the library and back into the fray.

_ We will remember. _


End file.
